Page 10 of The Photograph

“Have a good day!” My mom’s words follow me as my dad appears at the end of the corridor, glasses perched on his nose.

“Impress them today, Alex. You’re the man of this family—you need to be setting an example. Work hard.”

Every day he likes to impart his words of wisdom. I nod my head and slip through the door, slamming it behind me. My family are close-knit and caring, but I always feel like I’ve escaped an inquisition.

As I walk up the street, I thumb through to the app: Still no response from Des after the photograph I sent him. And God, that tight shirt and tumble of blond curls, the way his pants outlined every muscle in his …Stop, Alex! Why would he be interested in someone as fumbling and inexperienced as you?

I’m an idiot. I sent him a picture of my ankle like some maiden aunt from the 1800s. That tattoo I had done when I was at college in a pitiful act of rebellion. And I thought my mom was bad. Why am I even surprised he’s not responded?

In my mind’s eye, I can still see Des’s hair gleaming under the lights at the cocktail bar and my heart aches. He made it perfectly clear what he was looking for, and I wasn’t it. What a ham-fisted mess I made of meeting him. We exchanged numbers, and God, do I want to call him! But deep down I know I can’t have this. I’ve just got to forget I ever met him.

5

DES

Friday. Praise the Lord. This week … it’s like I’ve never been away. Am I going out this evening? I rub my eyes as code scrolls up my screen. There’s always so much to learn in software. And I need to start sorting the schedule for Samsung. My phone vibrates on the wooden desktop beside me, and I pick it up. A WhatsApp fromthebestguyIeverwentoutwithpops up and I grin.George. He typed that in my contacts the first night I met him. How many other guys have him down under that exact same name?

COCKTAILS. CLUBBING. TONIGHT.

I glance at my watch. I’ve got a mountain of work to do here, but I can’t think of anything better than dancing my ass off at a club until 3 a.m. and burning off the trauma of this team who are still asking hundreds of questions. I text back:

DAY. FROM. HELL. HELL’S YES.

I order a takeout from Uber Eats and burn through the schedule for Samsung. Then I spend another couple of hoursworking on software and promise myself I’ll look at it over the weekend. Heading out of the office, I inhale the cool night air and set off up the street. The funds I scraped together to buy my small apartment on the Lower East Side two years ago was one of the most sensible decisions I’ve ever made. The area wasn’t crazy expensive for Manhattan, I can walk home, and it’s gone up and up in value.

An hour later, when I’m standing on line for Crush all clean and polished, George appears in front of me wearing tight shorts and some kind of leather vest consisting of straps and buckles. He flings his arms around me.

“Dessy! You’re the only one who says yes to my invites! I can’t believe you’ve been away for so long.”

People say yes to his invites all the time. I lean back to examine his sweeping eyelashes and gelled hair and let out a slow internal sigh. George and I started out as boyfriends, but it soon became clear that he couldn’t do one partner, and after months of him pretending and sneaking off to hook up with other people, I eventually got fed up and ditched him. This got me tears and tantrums. So now we’re friends, and I’d describe our friendship as one of me tolerating his carelessness and not expecting too much from him.

But we have fun.We’re both lively, partygoing people. He brings all his man-traumas to me, which mainly involve him cheating on other people and getting upset when they’re pissed. I’m still at a loss as to why he does it, but maybe he likes the drama. In George’s world, everything revolves around him. Unfortunately, I’m not as immune to his charms as I’d like, and we still hook up occasionally. Planting a kiss on his cheek, I squeeze his waist.

“How’s the love of my life?”

He pulls back and plants a large warm hand on my chest. “I have so much to tell you!” he squeals.

I eye up the long line. “Well, it looks like I’ve got the time to hear it all.”

He purses his lips. “Let me go and have a word.”

This is usually a crapshoot: We’ll either get an ex-lover of his who won’t let us in, or someone who’s crushing on him and will. But minutes later he is back, grabbing my hand and pulling me past the waiting people as the bouncer lifts the rope, patting George’s ass on the way in.

“He’s hopeful,” George mutters in my ear. “His brother got the best handjob in the world from me last night and I think he thinks he’s getting the same treatment.”

The bouncer’s shaved head and huge bodybuilding physique catches my eye. “Not bad …”

George tips his head on one side and studies my tight white T-shirt and mid-thigh shorts, then grins. I shake my head at him. Do I want to go there tonight with him?Oh God.

But he’s already leaning over the counter and fluttering his eyelashes at the guy on the front desk who stretches forward and kisses him on the mouth. Then George says something in his ear and turns and grabs my hand and pulls me into the club.

“What was that?”

The music thumps as George whispers, “I promised him a blowjob later.”

I laugh out loud. How does he get away with agreeing to all these things and reneging on them after? My whole body warms as I take in the dancing bodies, the tight leather, rubber, and the lack of tops.Boy, have I missed this. Two cute guys from the office in South Korea took me out to some gay clubs in Seoul, but I didn’t find anything like New York. It was more restrained and polite compared to the thumping excess of this.

Raising my arms over my head, I swing out into the sea of swaying people, high-fiving a couple of guys on the way. George is right behind me, hands on my ass as I stop in the middle of thefloor, and when I turn around, he kisses me on the lips, grinning broadly against my mouth. And I sigh. This is the whole problem with George: He wants admiration and desire but not the long-term commitment of a boyfriend that would mean he’d have to give up all the hooking up and settle.

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